


Foot Rub

by theunknownfate



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Foot Massage, Kinkmeme, M/M, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill, or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunknownfate/pseuds/theunknownfate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a kinkmeme prompt about what the state of Rorschach feet must be with all the walking and pacing he does, and how badly me might need a long, slow foot rub. This is a fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foot Rub

The limp was barely noticable until they got back to Archie. With no one but his partner to see, Rorschach doubled over to hobble to his seat and then used the edge of the console to force his buckling muscles straight again. Nite Owl pulled off goggles and cowl to be Dan again and shook out his sweat-soaked hair. It had been a long night. 

"Leg cramps?" he asked, gesturing at Rorschach, who took offense.

"No!" was the instant hiss. It turned into a reluctant grumble. "Feet."

"Ow. Those are miserable," Dan said, keeping any sympathy out of his voice. "But I know a cure."

"I'm fine," Rorschach said, crossed his arms over his chest and slumping into his chair. Of course he was. Too much exercise, not enough water was a perfect blend for cramps. Rorschach had been chasing leads all day he had said, and had been much too cool to pull up his mask for a drink when they had the chance for a break after midnight. The cramps would start in his feet, and if they were anything like Dan's, would spread up his calves unless he stopped them, and then damn near cripple him when they twisted his thigh muscles. 

"Mine always came back once I settled down," Dan said. "Until Hollis told me how to soak and rub them. Said it worked for him when he was walking a beat all day and then crime-fighting at night. I'll show you." Rorschach was quiet after that, so Dan took it as consent, and pretended not to notice how he twisted his foot against the floor, trying to ease the knotting pains.

Back in the Nest, Dan shucked off cape and gloves and moved a chair over to one of his service faucets over a drain in the floor. He got the water started and beckoned Rorschach over. 

"Fine now," Rorschach said, even if his stance was a little awkward. "Passed."

"Still sore, though, right?" Dan asked. "If it comes back on you later, it'll be even worse. Give this a try." Rorschach looked at the chair without a word, but managing to convey disdain with posture alone. Dan found a basin and brought it over. Soak first, he remembered. 

"Try it," he insisted. "The water helps. I promise." Rorschach was threateningly quiet for another moment, then grumbled and sat down in the chair with an irritable thump. Dan reached to help pull off the boots and socks, but Rorschach wouldn't let him. He pulled them off quickly and put them behind the chair. Well, he was paranoid about everything else, Dan thought. Why not his shoes? He pushed the basin under the flow of warm water and did his best not to smirk as his partner stepped into it like a skittish flamingo. 

There was nothing funny about the state of his feet though. Both of Rorschach's big toenails were blackened and the next two toes on his right foot were in shades of purple and brown. All his toe knuckles were white against the pain of the cramp and sprouting little hairs that looked red in the water. The skin was cracked and scabbed and dried all over, probably all the way to his knees. There wasn't anybody at home to take care of him, Dan realized suddenly. No one to complain that his feet were like sandpaper in bed at night or to remind him that lotion existed. 

At least there's me, he decided and started setting up. He kept up some relevant conversation while he found a towel and a few other things and stalled until Rorschach got bored of sitting there with water running over his feet. Before he could declare that more than enough, Dan sat down on the floor by him and started to towel off his feet. Rorschach sat quietly. He had taken his hat off, but his mask was still on. The ink made slow and slightly worried expressions for him.

Dan started off easy before Rorschach could change his mind and stomp off. He stroked the top of the foot from toe to ankle, barely touching, but increasing the pressure. Rorschach didn't speak or move. If it hadn't been for the warm skin of his feet in Dan's hands, it would be easy to think of him as a large doll braced into a chair which was terrifying enough in its own way. Rorschach was breathing, slow and steady with the potential to lash out any moment.

Dan took one of Rorschach's heels in his palm and lifted it. Hoping he wouldn't get a kick in his teeth for his trouble, he gently rotated the ankle to the right and then back to the left. Rorschach was still worryingly silent, so Dan took a breath and started on his toes. Each one got a gentle rotation and a careful little tug. They were as knobby and gnarled as tree roots. How many times had they been broken against someone's ribs or pelvis? 

Lotion, he thought hopefully as the rough and cracked skin caught on his palms. But nothing scented or pastel colored. Rorschach was still allowing this, but as soon as he got a whiff of shea butter, there would be indignation and probably some kicks. Maybe tea tree oil would smell medicinal enough to be allowed. It was even in an old-fashioned brown bottle which would help. He saw Rorschach's head tilt and heard the faint hiss of an inhale under the mask, but no protest so far. Good.

"Antiseptic," he said, just to say something. Rorschach's answer was a grunt. Dan rubbed some of the oil in his palms and smoothed it over the foot. Using both hands now, he dug his thumbs in and walked them up and down the sole. He knew a little about acupressure and there was a pressure point in there somewhere. He used both thumbs to press there more firmly and saw a jolt go up Rorschach's legs. 

"Ticklish?" he asked without stopping. Rorschach made another sound and gripped the chair between his knees. Dan could see the gloves stretch over the knuckles, but there was no argument, so he kept going. Tremors kept going through Rorschach's legs and Dan could hear his breathing pick up. Maybe he really was trying not to laugh. Dan stroked the sole lightly once to see him jerk and then used his knuckles to press in harder. 

He made kneading motions all along the arch and gave each toe a roll in this fingers. He got his thumbs below the ball of Rorschach's foot and worked them in circles. There was another sound from under the mask, this one softer with a touch of bewilderment. It warmed Dan's belly for some reason, made him smile as he bent over the curling toes. He slid his thumbs from either side to the center and back out again, slowly working his way back to the heel. 

Once he got there, Dan wrapped the rest of his fingers around the foot and dragged his thumbs up and down, using more pressure. He let his fingertips trace over the long bones on top (Metatarsals, he remembered. Birds had them too.) and find little grooves in between them to nestle against. All eight fingers found a place to slide up and down until Dan got to the ankle. 

Rorschach was definitely shakier than he had been. His hand was clenched tight on the edge of the chair and a quick peek showed Dan that the other was clutching his scarf. Rorschach was either painfully ticklish or enjoying it more than he would admit, and either way he hadn't said a word about stopping. Dan took it as a good sign and slid his thumb to the outside of the ankle. 

There was an indention there between the ankle and the Achilles tendon. Rubbing into it got another jolt and a startled sound out of Rorschach. He tried to keep still as it went, but finally had to squirm, slouching down in the chair with a muffled groan that might've been Dan's name. Dan kept rubbing in case there was more, watching Rorschach's head loll over the back of the chair. His breathing was coming harder and quicker, and Dan's were picking up to match his. 

He saw the big toe twitch and without thinking, pressed his mouth to it. He shouldn't have. That was definitely crossing a line. It was probably a bad idea to linger. He wasn't sure how beneficial tea tree oil was taken externally and he couldn't be sure of Rorschach's feet either. He didn't lick or suck, just kissed. The sound Rorschach made was a blur of 'Daniel' and 'mouth' and 'soft', and even though his body bucked, he was careful not to pull his foot away. Dan pulled back to do it again an inch lower on the ball of Rorschach's foot, digging his thumb back into the pressure point.

The next noise didn't have any intelligible words in it. All ten of Rorschach's toes curled and he spasmed, jerking in the chair. A circle of his mask was sucked into his mouth and then blown out again. Dan watched him thrash with it, feeling a little dazed with the suffused heat churning in his own body. Rorschach twisted, shuddered, and then collapsed boneless in the chair. Gasps were audible through the mask and his hands moved in shaking circles, not sure where to grab on to. 

He had either just come in his pants or had just barely fought it off at the last second. The thought left Dan in a near trance state. It was incredible and yet it had happened and his mind accepted this break in the natural order of reality without too much trouble. If anything, he was proud of himself for being trusted and talented enough to help this happen. He set the pampered foot on his thigh and reached for the other one. 

"Next," he said. His voice sounded distant in his own ears. Rorschach's only answer was a moan.


End file.
